


Sweet Tooth

by LeoArcana



Series: Prompts [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bisexual Dean Winchester, Dating, Dentist Castiel, Dentistry, Dentists, Fluff, M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-05-31 07:37:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6461539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeoArcana/pseuds/LeoArcana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The dentist isn't Dean's favorite place, there's a reason he hasn't gone in years.  But having an attractive dentist makes the visits that much better.  The very first thought that popped into Dean’s head upon seeing the man was 'Dr. Sexy’s got nothing on this dude…'<br/>“Hello, I’m Dr. Novak,” the man introduced himself.<br/>He held his hand out to Dean and it took him a second to remember himself and shake his hand.<br/>“Dean,” Dean managed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dean didn’t like the dentist.  Not that many people did, but he disliked going so much that he hadn’t seen one in almost seven years now.  He did have a fairly valid excuse though; for the last four years, he didn’t have insurance and he knew he’d more than likely need a lot of work.  Once he did get insurance, it took a couple months to find a dentist who would take the insurance.  No one in Enumclaw would take it. 

He’d idly complained to Sam about it over the phone and, after being chastised for not going for so long, Sam had recommended he go to the one Sam had seen before he left for Stanford.  Going out to Kent wouldn’t be terribly convenient, but he had to go somewhere.

He finished up his new patient paperwork and handed to the girl at the front desk.  No sooner had he given it to her than the door beside the desk opened up and another girl called him back.

“You were just waitin’ for me, huh?” Dean joked.

“Kind of,” the girl shrugged, “I’m Jo, Dr. Novak’s assistant.  Nice to meet you.”

He followed Jo around the corner to the first operatory.  He shrugged his jacket off and looked for somewhere to put it, but the room had no coat hooks.

“You can just set it on the counter,” Jo spoke, “We don’t use it much when we have a new patient.”

Dean tossed his jacket to the far end of the narrow counter and took a seat in the large black chair.  Jo pulled up a short, little rolling chair beside him and flipped a page over of the paperwork he’d done.

“So, Dean, what brings you into the dentist today?” Jo asked.

“I, uh, haven’t seen the dentist in a while,” Dean admitted with a laugh.

“How long is a while?”

“’Bout seven years, so I’m pretty sure my mouth is gonna be awful.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that.  The bar for awful is pretty high,” Jo laughed, “I’ve had meth head patients before, so unless you’re drinking straight acid...”

“Nah, that makes me feel a little better.”

“Do you remember what type of cleaning you got last time you went to the dentist?” Jo changed the subject.

“What do you mean?”

“Did you go every six months or did they ever have to numb you for a cleaning and have you back every three or four months?”

“No, god, no.  It was probably just six months.”

Dean would certainly remember needing something like that.  And at the age he was at his last visit, he would’ve adamantly refused it.

Jo asked a few more questions, if he had any sensitivity or pain when eating, if he’d had braces, if he’d had his wisdom teeth out.  In order, yes, he had cold sensitivity.  No pain, yes to braces and his wisdom teeth had never come in.  She set her charts and notes aside and opened up the cabinet on the wall to reveal a compact, white x-ray head.  She took the lead apron resting on it and draped it over Dean, then opened one of the packs sitting on the tray.  She assembled the little plastic pieces to the metal stick and grabbed a long cord off the wall behind him.  She plugged it into the computer monitor hanging in front of him, brought up a black screen with more than a dozen white tiles, and slid the bulky end of the cord into the plastic thing she’d put together.

“Is this how you guys do x-rays now?” Dean asked.

“Yep, it’s all digital.  Saves a ton of time,” Jo answered, “Open for me.”

She placed the x-ray sensor in his mouth and he bit down.

“Oh, no, not yet.  Open again.”

She moved the sensor further back, then told him to bite down and swung the x-ray head up next to him, lining it up with the white plastic ring outside his mouth.  Jo stepped out, a beep went off and she came back in just as an x-ray popped up on the computer screen and took a spot on a white tile.  She took the sensor from his mouth and hummed as she looked at the screen.  He didn’t like that.  Dean looked at the x-ray as well and tried to see what she was seeing.

“Eh, this’ll be alright,” Jo decided.

She instructed him to open again and took three more x-rays like the first one.  The next, she switched the end of the rinn holding the sensor.  The one she’d just been using was red, now it was a yellow one holding the sensor a little higher up.  She adjusted the ring and went put it in Dean’s mouth again.    

“These ones are gonna be a bit more uncomfortable, but they’re so I can get pictures of the roots of your teeth,” Jo explained, “You can let go when the beep ends, if you want.  Just don’t drop it.”

Jo wasn’t wrong.  These ones were uncomfortable  and there were twice as many of them.  Two of them, the ones aimed at his premolars on the bottom, hurt like a bitch.  She switched the yellow piece on the rinn for a blue piece and moved the ring again, saying that she was going to his front teeth the same way.  The blue one wasn’t as bad as the yellow, at least, until the very last one of his lower right canine.  The split second the beep ended, he ripped it out of his mouth.

“God, you saved the worst for last,” Dean tried not to whimper.              

“Yeah, that one’s a bit a doozy for most people,” Jo replied sympathetically, “But, good news is the torture’s over now.”

“Til the doc comes in,” Dean mumbled.

Jo took the apron from him and wiped it down along with the x-ray head.  As she did, Dean stared at his x-rays on the screen.  All in all, she’d taken eighteen pictures.  He scrunched up his face trying to make sense of what he was seeing, but was getting nowhere.

“What’s that white?” Dean asked.

“This stark white here?” Jo asked.

“Yeah.”

Several of his teeth had a stark white blotch that stood out from the rest.  She told him it was the silver fillings he’d already had done; metal and porcelain came out that bright.  The less white outline around his teeth was enamel, shadows going through were cavities (or starting cavities), the little thorny looking bits between his teeth were calculus and tartar build up, the darkened halo around the root tip of one tooth was an infection.

Jo excused herself to take his chart back to Dr. Novak, saying he would look over Dean’s x-rays and be up in a minute to do his exam.  Dean thanked her as she left and shrank back in his seat, fearing his teeth were worse than he’d thought. 

A few minutes went by before Dean heard two sets of footsteps coming back to the room.  Jo came in a took a seat on the opposite side of him as before.  Behind her, Dean guessed, was Dr. Novak.  The very first thought that popped into Dean’s head upon seeing the man was _Dr. Sexy’s got nothing on this dude…_

“Hello, I’m Dr. Novak,” the man introduced himself.

He held his hand out to Dean and it took him a second to remember himself and shake his hand.

“Dean,” Dean managed.

“Jo’s told me a little bit about what’s going on already.  I’ll get started with your exam, check your teeth for cavities, check your gums for gum disease and then we’ll talk about what’s going on.  Alright?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

Dr. Novak tapped a button on the side of the chair and it began to recline.  Jo handed him a pair of sunglasses as it did and moved a light over his face and switched it on, then he heard her opening another pack that had been sitting on the tray.  Dr. Novak— Castiel Novak, as the name on his jacket said— started out feeling around his face, asking him to open and close his mouth a few times.

“Left pop on opening,” Dr. Novak commented.

“Huh?”

“Oh, I’m going to be telling Jo a few things.  They might not make sense to you, but I will explain everything,” Dr. Novak commented.

Dean nodded and Dr. Novak felt around a bit more before asking Dean to open and stick his tongue out.  Then he asked to close and pulled on Dean’s cheeks.

“Class one on the right and… class one on the left.  History of ortho for occlusion,” Dr. Novak said.

He heard Dr. Novak pick up something metal from the tray and brought it over Dean’s face for him to see.

“I’m going to take this little ruler and measure your gums to check how healthy they are.  If it’s too uncomfortable, raise your left hand and I’ll stop for a minute.”

Dean nodded and opened his mouth.  He flinched when the thin metal went between his gums and tooth.  Dr. Novak apologized, but Dean didn’t raise his hand, so he continued.  He was calling out numbers and Jo was typing them into the computer behind him.  Dean didn’t know what they meant, but from the way Dr. Novak was saying them, lower numbers were better.  Dean was averaging a lot of fours and fives, though one spot gave him a seven and Dr. Novak sounded mildly perturbed by it.  When he stopped calling out numbers, he told Jo which spots had been bleeding.  By the sounds of it, his mouth was bleeding nearly everywhere.

Dr. Novak traded the ruler for another instrument with a curved hook and started poking and scrapping at his teeth.

“Number two, MO decay, needs an MO comp…  Three has an OL amalgam— Leaking, we’ll replace it with a BOL comp…”

More things Dean didn’t understand.  He gave up on trying and tuned out what Dr. Novak was saying.  As he continued working, Dean caught himself staring at the man’s eyes on more than one occasion.  He quickly averted his eyes everytime, but he didn’t know where else to look.  Then he thought to himself, he was wearing sunglasses.  Dr. Novak wouldn’t notice him staring.  Dean let himself stare then, transfixed by Dr. Novak’s blue eyes.

“Nineteen, needs root canal, build up and crown.”

“What type of crown?” Jo asked.

“Mmm.  We’ll do a zirconia.”

Dr. Novak said about half a dozen more things before he sat up and backed away.  Dean felt slighted at the loss of closeness, he wasn’t done staring at those ocean blue eyes yet.  The light above him flicked off and moved, the chair moved back up into a sitting position. 

“Alright, Dean.  So, you’ve got a few cavities…” Dr. Novak trailed off.

He looked to Jo, who turned her screen towards him.

“Actually, seventeen of them,” Dr. Novak clarified.

“Shit,” Dean breathed, “Oh, sorry.”

It was all the pie he ate.  If had to be with how full of sugar they all were.

“That’s alright, I don’t mind as long as children aren’t around,” Dr. Novak dismissed, “One of them is so big that by the time I remove all the decay, there won’t be a lot of tooth structure left and I’ll be looking at the nerve.”

“Which one is that?”

“The very back bottom left.  It’s also the one that’s got this infection, so it will need a root canal.”

Dr. Novak pointed to the x-ray showing the dark halo.  He then went on to explain the numbers he’d been calling out.  Anything below three was considered healthy; Dean’s numbers put him at periodontal disease.  The calculus had started infections in his gums and was eating away that bone holding his teeth.  He would need the deep cleaning with the numbing Jo had mentioned.  On top of that, most of his cavities were between his teeth.  Both the disease and cavities were a result of his poor flossing habit. 

Dr. Novak had said all this hadn’t happened over night and it would take time to fix, but everything could be fixed.  Bela, at the front, would get him scheduled to come back as soon as possible to start the cleaning and, if Dean was willing to have a longer appointment, take care of a few cavities.

Dean sighed inwardly as he left and berated himself for putting off coming to the dentist for so long.  Jo walked back up front to Bela and told her Dean needed to be scheduled an ‘SRP one to three on the upper right and full quad on the lower right, fills on the upper too if possible’.  He felt guilty now and avoided looking at Bela as she went through the schedule.  He tried to remind himself that he wasn’t the worst patient they’d seen, but he definitely felt like it.

Bela ended up booking him back for the day after tomorrow.  He was dreading the appointment, but the silver lining was he’d get to indulge himself a bit by being able to stare at Castiel— _Dr. Novak.  You aren’t on first name basis.—_ all the while.

When he did come back, Dr. Novak explained the process of the deep cleaning and why they were only doing half his mouth.  He didn’t want to numb Dean’s entire mouth because it lasted for hours and he would have next to no control over it and would be more likely to hurt himself.  He started with the shots, which Dean hated, but was surprised that he barely felt it.  Dr. Novak left the room while they waited for the numbing to kick in and came back a few minutes later.

Jo was with him again and helped with the cleaning, mostly by just suctioning the water out of Dean’s mouth.  But Dean was glad she was there, she was talking to Dr. Novak and getting him to talk a little about himself.  Dr. Novak apologized for talking over Dean, it was just something to fill the silence, but he was more than welcome to listen in. 

Dean learned plenty about Dr. Novak that way.  He lived up in Bellevue, but on the outskirts by the sound of it.  He’d have to have the kind of garden he talked about tending for the bees.  He had an older brother, Gabriel, who sounded like the complete opposite of him.  And he had a problematic older Lincoln Continental.  Jo had joked that he should just get a new car, but he declined.  He liked his car, it had that class and beauty older cars always had.

Dean tried to motion that he agreed.  Out of curiosity, Castiel pulled back to let him speak.

“Classic cars are definitely classier than the new ones.  I’ve got a sixty-seven Chevy,” Dean said.

“That’s quite old, does it have any problems?”

“Nah, I take good care of her.  Plus, if anything ever goes wrong, I only have to pay for parts.”

“Are you good with cars?”

“Yeah, I’m a mechanic.”

“Where at?”

“Singer’s Auto Repair in Buckley.”

“Perhaps I should bring my car down to you,” Dr. Novak thought aloud.

“We always got time,” Dean offered quickly.

Dr. Novak gave a contemplative hum and went back to working.  Dean hoped to high hell that he’d find a Lincoln Continental on their appointment list soon.

He finished up the cleaning and went to work on the fillings on the upper right.  Dr. Novak worked quickly, faster than any dentist Dean had had before.  They even finished a half hour before the end of his appointment; Dean wouldn’t admit to being bitter about that.  But he had more work to be done and was scheduled back within the week.

For every following appointment, he thanked god for Jo striking up conversation with Dr. Novak.  He didn’t do much on his weekends, he mostly tended his garden for the bees or he stayed home and read.  He was reading Vonnegut now and Dean was quick to say that was one of his favorite authors. 

Dr. Novak looked surprised that Dean read that, but so did everyone who found that out.  After that, Dr. Novak was more open with him, having conversations with Dean directly, even after Jo left the room.  The following two appointments, they discussed _Cat’s Cradle_ , the book Dr. Novak had been reading.  Dean was the first person he’d been able to talk to about it and Dean couldn’t help but grin at that.  He suggested that he read _Slaughterhouse V_ after that, if he hadn’t already.  The next appointment, Dr. Novak said he purchased _Slaughterhouse V_ at Pike Place on Dean’s recommendation.

Perhaps one of the best things Dean learned was that Castiel was single.  He couldn’t get a read on if Castiel was interested in guys, however.  That was the one thing that stopped Dean from asking him out. 

On his last visit, to seat his crown, Dean’s heart was hammering.  This would be the last appointment for a month.  The next was just to check how his gums were healing, a short five minute appointment, then he wouldn’t see Castiel for four months.  Just to add to his anxiousness, he’d also broken one of the fillings that had just been done.  Castiel didn’t seem to upset about it and would repair it for no charge.  He asked Dean how and when he’d broken it.  It was last night and it was that damn pie again.  He’d bite down on a pecan in just the wrong way and chipped half the filling out.

Castiel had never had pecan pie and that was a sin.  He then admitted he’d actually never had any pie at all.  That was a cardinal sin and Dean needed to rectify that as soon as possible.  His crown was seated and his filling repaired.  As Castiel sat him up, Dean swallowed nervously and took a deep breath.

“Y’know, uh, if you want, I know this great pie place in Enumclaw,” Dean said.

Castiel raised his eye brows at him.        

“It’s called the Pie Goddess and it’s the best damn pies I’ve ever had.  I could take you for a slice some time.”

Castiel’s expression was unreadable and that was very quickly killing Dean.  He wrung his hands and glanced away to hide the rapidly spreading blush across his face.  His mind screamed at him that he’d made a mistake, he’d need to find a new dentist now.  Dean opened his mouth to back track, but Castiel cut him off.

“I’d like that,” Castiel said, “And while I’m down there, perhaps I could drop my car off at your shop while we eat.”

Dean’s voice caught in his throat.

“Just to be clear though,” Castiel said, “You are asking me on a date, correct?”

“Yeah,” Dean blurted, “Yeah, if you’re into that— or guys or whatever.”

“I am.  If you’re available tomorrow, the office is closed.”

Usually Dean worked on Saturdays, but Bobby could make an exception; he never took a day off unless he absolutely had to and those instances were far and few between.

Castiel said he’d call Dean later, he had his phone number from Dean’s account.  He was dismissed and Castiel left the room.  As Dean got up, he swore he heard just a snippet of conversation between Castiel and Jo.

_“I told you he liked you.”_

_“Yes, you were right.”_

_“He stares at you the whole time we’re working.”_

Dean was embarrassed he’d been caught, evidently those glasses weren’t as dark as he thought.  But the feeling didn’t linger long.  He had a date with his hot dentist tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jo is me. like literally, i'm a dental assistant lmao  
> facebook prompt: Does anyone know any dentist!Cas fics? Like I would love a fic where all of dean's pie eating finally catches up to him so he goes to the new dentist Dr. Novak. And like he has so many cavities and like he has to keep coming back and I'm his last appointment he's Cas because he won't see Cas again so he takes a risk and asks him on a date.  
> if you have a prompt, send an ask to my tumblr (leo-arcana), same if you'd like a sequel to this or other prompts i've written  
> 


	2. Chapter 2

“I don’t know what you’re freaking out about,” Charlie said, “Pie’s a perfectly good date idea.”

“I know, but I mean, he’s coming down from _Bellevue_ for _just_ a slice of pie?”

“With you,” Charlie reminded him, “And to get his car fixed.”

“Great selling points,” Dean drawled.

“They are,” Charlie shrugged, “Now just finish getting dressed, you’ve been pacing around half naked for ten minutes.”

In the middle of getting dressed, Dean had gotten frustrated with not being able to come up with anything else to do for his date tonight.  He’d bunched his shirt and started walking around the living room and venting to Charlie. 

Dean rolled his eyes and pulled his a gray Henley on with a huff.  He didn’t own any nice clothes, he didn’t have much of a reason too.  But the Henley was fairly new and still clean, the jeans he was wearing were the only ones not stained and or ripped; though they still weren’t the most ideal.  He scrubbed his hands through his hair, flicking away the last little drops of water and attempting to spike the way he normally did; Charlie had insisted he not use hair gel.  He grimaced, knowing his hair was going to turn out in a soft, fuzzy rendition of his usual style. 

He gave a sigh and stalked over to the kitchen where his boots lie.  He balanced carefully on one foot while putting one boot on and lacing it up, still wracking his brain for ideas for something else to do.  He switched and put on the other boot, stomping his foot a few times to right it and made sure his jeans went over the boots to hide them.  He snatched his keys off the counter and walked to the garage.

“Lock up when you leave,” Dean called over his shoulder.

“Always do!”

Charlie wasn’t his roommate, but she was over at his house often enough that she may as well be.

Dean unlocked his car and ducked inside.  He turned the key in the ignition and the Impala roared to life and settled into an idle rumble.  He took a breath and ran his hands over the smooth, worn leather of the steering wheel.  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been nervous for a date.  His late teens or early twenties, maybe. 

He backed out of the carport, onto the gravel driveway and turned towards the gate.  Honestly, having the gate was more of a chore than anything.  He grumbled inwardly as he got out and pushed the wooden gate open, then went back to the car.  He turned out onto the road, not bothering to shut the gate behind himself.  Charlie would be leaving soon anyway.

Dean followed his usual route to work.  He turned up the music, Iron Maiden in the tapedeck, in hopes of distracting himself from the fact he still had nothing besides pie. 

He drove over the bridge and crossed into Buckley.  He kept an eye out for a Lincoln Continental as he got closer to work and felt a ball of anxiety forming in his stomach.  He parked off to the side of the garage and went inside to wait.  He knew he was early, so he figured he may as well take care of a few things while he was here.  Nothing with the cars; he’d end up with grease up both arms and blackened handprints on his jeans.  He slipped behind the counter to work on paper work for just a bit, it had a tendency to pile up since neither he or Bobby enjoyed doing it.

“Boy, you ain’t on the clock,” Bobby grumbled.

“I know, but I gotta do something,” Dean replied without looking up.

Bobby mumbled something about paperwork and Dean taking the day off, despite wedging an appointment into an already moderately full schedule.  He sauntered back into the garage and left Dean in silence.  He’d gotten through a good amount of paper work before he looked up at the clock.

Castiel should’ve been here five minutes ago.

The knot in his stomach immediately returned.  He chewed on his lip and tapped his pen anxiously.  It was fine, it’s only five minutes.  He probably just missed a turn.  But several more minutes went by and dread was creeping up Dean’s chest.  He shook his head and went back to the paper work in front of him, but he only succeeded in staring at it.

Ten minutes later, the door to the shop dinged and Dean nearly broke his neck looking up.  Castiel stepped in, looking rather disheveled in an ill-fitted trenchcoat over a deep blue suit.

“I apologize for being late, I didn’t realize how late I was,” Castiel spoke, “It seems, um… The street sign for this road has been removed.”

Dean stared at him for a minute, wondering why the street sign would be gone.  He then remembered it had been shot a few weeks back.  The city must just now be getting around to replacing it.

“It’s cool,” Dean breathed in relief, “I’ll take your keys though.”

Castiel handed him the keys and Dean logged Castiel’s car down in the register.  He briefly told Dean what was wrong, the steering wheel trembled violently when he pressed the brakes; mostly when going downhill.  Dean immediately knew it to be the rotors on the car and made a note of it for Bobby.  He opened the door to the garage to holler at Bobby that he was leaving, which Bobby yelled back that it was about time.

Dean led the way out, feeling his nerves getting the better of him once more.  Castiel followed a step behind, but stopped when they came around the corner to Dean’s car.

“This is your car?” Castiel asked.

“Yeah, my pride and joy,” Dean grinned.

“It doesn’t look nearly as old as imagined it would,” Castiel confessed.

“She ages like fine wine.”

Castiel’s eyes trailed over the glossy black paint and sharp angles accented with chrome as he walked around to the passenger side.  The door creaked with its lack of use, but Castiel found it oddly fitting.  The powerful, snarling engine was something else he hadn’t imagined.  He’d never ridden in a muscle car and found himself torn between taking in all its features and looking at Dean as he drove.  He’d seen Dean several times now for at least an hour at a time, his face had been right above Dean’s for most of that time.  So why was it becoming increasingly difficult to look away from him now?  Because Dean wasn’t just a patient now?

Yes, that was it.

He wasn’t the patient with a load of work to be done and wanting to get it done as quick as possible.  Now, he was mechanic with forest green eyes and freckles behind the wheel of a car that was the perfect balance of beauty and aggression.  He was the man with a hypnotizing smile, which Castiel secretly prided himself in having fixed, that flashed as he sang along to songs Castiel didn’t know to fill the silence.

Castiel didn’t even realize they’d arrived at Pie Goddess until the light vibrations through the seats stopped and the car fell quiet.  He didn’t immediately see Pie Goddess from the lot they’d parked in, it was a little bakery in a brick building on the corner of the four way stop.  There was a little extra pep in Dean’s step as they crossed the street to the bakery, Castiel noted with a tiny smile.

As soon as the door opened, Castiel was hit by the warm, sweet scent of fresh baked pies.  There were too many smells to identify any which one, but they weren’t overwhelming and blended well together.  Dean had gone straight to the counter to order, already knowing what he wanted.  Castiel moved over to the display case, looking over all the various pies.  Cherry, raspberry peach, lemon lush, jumbleberry, black forest lush, bread pudding, peanut butter finger—

“Get as much as you want, you got a life time to make up for,” Dean grinned.

“I couldn’t, that would be too many pies,” Castiel mused.

“No such thing as too many pies.”

Castiel thought for minute longer before settling on a slice of cherry almond crunch, jumbleberry and pecan.  Dean paid for their food and they took a seat at one of the small tables outside the bakery.  The weather had been warming up as of late and the sun hadn’t set quite yet. 

Castiel went to take a bite of the jumbleberry pie and hesitated when he felt Dean’s eyes on him.  He glanced up to meet eager green eyes.

“You’ve never had pie, I’m not missing your face when you try it.”

Castiel laughed under his breath and took a bite.  Blackberry, strawberry, blueberry and raspberry all danced together perfectly across his tongue in one of the most savory-sweet bites he’d ever had in his life.  And his face showed it too, eyes widening and mouth stopping mid-chew.

“This is amazing,” Castiel mumbled with a mouthful.

A smile broke across Dean’s face as he laughed to himself and started in on his own pie.  He watched Castiel eat, transfixed by every bite of the sweet, dark colored pie.  There was a brief moment of disappointment on Castiel’s face when he’d finished the jumbleberry pie, but it was quickly replaced with anticipation for the cherry almond crunch.  And subsequently replaced with awe at the sweet taste of cherries interrupted by smooth bits of almonds.  Cutting his fork into the pecan pie was bittersweet; he was half wishing he’d taken Dean up on his offer of choosing as many as he wanted.  He definitely wanted more now.  But pecan was a good last slice, the filling was a perfect consistency with nutty flavoring and butter-smooth texture and a crisp crust to it.

“Save the best for last,” Dean said.

Castiel glanced up to see Dean was on his last slice as well; also pecan.  He remembered then that Dean had broken one of his fillings on pecan pie the other day.

“Is this your favorite?” Castiel asked.

“Hell yeah, my mom always made the best,” Dean replied, “Though I gotta say this place would give her a run for her money.”

Castiel didn’t miss _‘made’_ and a tiny flicker in Dean’s expression.

“She must be the one responsible for your love of pie then,” Castiel commented.

“Yeah, her and Bobby’s wife— my boss’s wife.  They had this sorta competition about who could make the best pies.”

“And you were the judge?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Wouldn’t you be a bit biased then?”

“Hey, it was either me or Bobby.  It was weighted one way or another.”

“At least it was of benefit for you both.  I wish my mother had baked more dessert when I was younger.”

“Yeah, but then you would’ve ended up like me.”

Castiel fixed him a light glare for the self-depreciating joke.

“It takes more than just pie, you know that now,” Castiel chided.

Dean waved him off with a joke about dentists always telling their patients to floss more, but Castiel knew he took it more seriously than that now.

They finished up their pie and Castiel glanced back inside the bakery, considering getting a pie to take home.  Dean caught his expression and did just that for him.  They walked back to the car, Castiel holding a box of a whole jumbleberry pie.  As good as the pecan pie was, he liked the jumbleberry more. 

The sun had sunk low in the sky, now only a distance blaze on the horizon, and the stars were beginning to sparkle in the clear sky.  Castiel stopped at the edge of the parking lot to stare up at the twilight stars; there were already more than he would see from his own house. 

Dean stopped by his car, realizing he’d lost Castiel.  He turned back to see him looking up at the sky in wonder.  Dean looked up as well, seeing the same sky he’d seen for most of his life and looked back down to Castiel.

“You comin’?”

Castiel snapped out his trance, dipping his head in slight embarrassment.  He slid into the Impala and set the pie on the floor, for fear of it sliding off the leather bench seats.  He clicked his seatbelt into place and looked out of the window once more up to the quickly darkening sky.  More stars flickered into appearance, decorating the expanse.

Dean glanced over at him a few times as he drove and made a decision then.  He knew what he could take them to do for the rest of the date, he just hoped it wasn’t too sappy.  He drove back towards his house, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter.  Castiel didn’t pay much attention to where they were going and said nothing until dense evergreens began to obscure his sight.

“Where are we going now?” Castiel asked.

“You, uh, you seem to really like lookin’ at the stars and there’s a great view of them from my house.”

“From your house,” Castiel repeated.

Dean blanched at how that sounded.    

“I’m not— I’m not being some weird pervert dude, I swear.  If you don’t wanna go to my house, I’ll turn around right now,” Dean flustered, “I swear to god.”

Castiel studied him for a second, but he was alright with it; much to Dean’s relief.  They came upon a wooden arch over a gate and Dean stopped for a moment to get out and open it.  Again, he didn’t bother shutting it as he drove in, he’d need to take Castiel back to get his car later.

The gravel crunched beneath the Impala’s tires as Dean rolled past the carport  and workshop, down a hill the arched down around his house.  The gravel strip thinned out to two lines, tire width apart, and cut through a small field with a few douglas fir trees to the right and a small pasture and barn to the left.

“Do you have farm animals?”

“No, but I think the previous owner did,” Dean shrugged, “I just use the barn to store some of Baby’s— um, my car’s bigger parts when I’m working on her.  It’s a little creepy in there to be honest.”

Castiel hummed a laugh and looked ahead.  The strip of gravel came to end just before a tiny bridge too small for the Impala.  Dean cut the engine and opened the door.  Castiel got out with him and he noticed the soft rushing sound of water.  He followed Dean across the bridge, but the stream beneath it was big enough or fast enough to make the sound Castiel was hearing.  They walked through the brush and low hanging branches, Dean warning him of roots that stuck up in the dark or notoriously loose rocks.

The ground rose up sharply and dropped off into the sandy, rocky banks of a rushing river.

“This— you have a river in your backyard?”

“Yeah, part of the reason I bought the place.  That and there’s a bar in the downstairs of the house.”

Castiel cocked his head to the side.

“I’m not kidding.  It used to be a small lodge,” Dean said.

“It must’ve cost a fortune,” Castiel mused.

“For being in Enumclaw, it was a little pricey,” Dean shrugged, “Now look up.”

Castiel did as he was told and was met with a sky littered with bright stars.  His mouth fell open as he looked across the sky.  The stars highlighted the river’s rapids and dusted everything else with a pale white glow in contrast to the shadows of the night.  His gaze swept across the sky for the umpteenth time and fell down to Dean.  He had moved a few steps away and taken a seat on the ground against a washed up log.  Castiel walked over to him and sat down beside him, half falling in the process.

“It’s like a thousand diamonds strewn across a blue blanket,” Dean murmured.

“That’s…very poetic.”

“It’s from a song,” Dean admitted with a laugh.

Castiel side eyed him.

“You should’ve kept that to yourself, you would’ve gotten a few points for that,” Castiel breathed.

Castiel returned his gaze to the stars, ignoring the curious look from Dean.

“What song is it?”

“Song by Incubus, called ‘Wish You Were Here’,” Dean answered softly, “I don’t listen to ‘em much, but they got a few I like.”

“I’ll have to look that song up later.”

“I’m sure you’d like it.”

They fell into a silence for a few minutes.  Dean swallowed thickly before asking Castiel if he recognized any of the clusters.  He could spot the little dipper and Ursa minor, but that was about it.  Dean leaned a little closer to him and raised a finger to the sky, pointing out Orion, Betelgeuse, Gemini and Canis Minor.

“You’re quite full of surprises,” Castiel whispered.

Dean ducked his head to hide the creeping blushing and smile.  He named off a few more stars and constellations and somewhere amidst that, his hand had found Castiel’s.  He tentatively threaded his fingers between Castiel’s with his heart beating hard.  Castiel turned his hand over to properly hold Dean’s and leaned ever so slightly closer.

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while longer, at some point leaning fully against each other.  Wispy strips of clouds rolled in on gentle winds, gradually building into a patchy blanket hiding most of the stars.  Both of them pursed their lips in annoyance, but made no effort to move until the first few warning drops of rain struck them.

Dean and Castiel got up and dusted the sand from their pants; their hands finding each other again immediately after.  They stumbled through the brush and trees, back to Dean’s car and the Impala’s rumbling muted the sound of the river.  Again, their fingers entwined as Dean drove them back to Singer’s Auto Repair.

The rain had opened up, pouring and chattering against the Impala’s windshield.  Dean pulled up as close to the garage as he could get.  He told Castiel to wait as he got out and ran inside the shop to retrieve his keys. 

Bobby had left the keys sitting behind the desk with a note that read _I outta kick your ass. And his.   Look at those rotors and calipers._   Dean rolled his eyes, he’d look later.  He hurried back outside, around to the passenger side of the Impala and opened the door.  He handed Castiel his keys as he got out and searched for something to say, but Castiel beat him to it.

“I can say, without a doubt, this is the best date I’ve been on,” Castiel hummed, “And… I hope there might be more…?”

“I was just thinking the same.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sequel request: As a sequel to your fic 'sweet tooth', what if Cas and Dean's first date ends with them going stargazing together? (Maybe it starts raining on them, maybe it doesn't.)  
> any requests are welcome in my askbox c:  
> and fun fact, Pie Goddess is a real place in Enumclaw


	3. Chapter 3

About a week later found Dean driving north towards Seattle for a second date.  Castiel had suggested they go to Pike Place for dinner.  It wouldn’t have been Dean’s first choice for dinner, only because he never really thought of Pike Place as a place to get dinner.  But he’d been hearing ads on the local rock station for the new Men’s Room Original Sausage at Uli’s Famous Sausage in Pike Place and he’d been itching to try it.

Traffic was fine until he came near the public market.  It was almost as if the brick roads caused everyone to forget how to drive.  He moved at a crawling pace when he had the chance to go and grumbled at the uneven old road and threw his hands up when someone wanted to cross traffic to make a turn, backing traffic up worse.  Two bicyclists had almost taken out his passenger side mirror and someone who thought they could pull out onto the road in front of Dean nearly struck the front fender.

He was relieved to get through the market traffic and turn down a hill to a garage wrapped back around under a hotel, or maybe they were condos, and stretched back to the market.  He parked in a stall overlooking the Alaskan Way Viaduct and Elliott Bay and got out, the sound his door shutting echoing through the parking garage.  Just before he reached the end of the garage, he saw the champagne gold Lincoln; Castiel was already here.  Dean smiled to himself and glanced at the ground as he pushed the door open and walked up the steps, letting out into Victor Steinbrueck Park.

Dean saw Castiel sitting on stone bench, watching a foreign street performer doing magic tricks with a small smile on his face.  Dean walked up to him as quietly as he could, intent on giving Castiel a little spook, but the other man took notice before he got close enough.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel greeted.

“Havin’ fun?”

“He’s actually quite good.”

Castiel stood and dusted off the back of his trenchcoat.  How he was wearing it in this oddly hot spring weather, Dean didn’t know.

“Are you hungry?” Castiel asked.

“Always,” Dean joked.  

Castiel dropped a few dollars into the man’s haphazardly made box and led the way towards the market with Dean following close behind.  They waited at the crosswalk, waiting for a time they could actually cross.  There were no signals and too many people trying to cross in front of impatient drivers.  At a small window of opportunity, Dean and Castiel, and half a dozen other people, sprinted through the crosswalk to the otherside.

They rounded what looked to be an old bus stop with small red neon lights reading “Pike Place” and past the few stands outside the market.  The moment they set foot inside the market, they almost lost sight of each other.  Everyone was shoulder to shoulder as some tried to weave through, while others decided to stop and admire the wares lining either side of the tight space.  As much as they tried to stay close, they kept getting separated by the sea of people.

Without a thought, Castiel reached back and grabbed Dean’s hand.  Dean’s heart pounded just as hard as the first time, he stalled for just a second as he stared at Castiel leading him.  He quickly shook his head and regained himself before Castiel noticed, telling himself this was not the time for chick-flick moments.

They bypassed all the flowers, gorgeous and harvested from local fields, and the handcrafted souvenirs depicting Seattle’s landscape and native cultures.  When they reached the portion of the market selling food, Castiel pulled Dean to the side.  He asked Dean what he wanted to eat, Uli’s of course, but he didn’t have a preference for anything else.  They continued working their way through the crowd until they found the small sausage shop, a hole in the wall, and Castiel ordered the sausage sandwiches to go; all the seats were already taken and no one looked like they were going anywhere anytime soon. 

Castiel stopped to pick up a few things from produce stands to add to their dinner.  Dean teased that he didn’t peg Castiel for the rabbit-food type.  That stuff just wasn’t filling.

“Neither is only a sandwich.”

Dean opened his mouth, but no response came out.  He was right, just a sandwich wouldn’t be anywhere near enough.

A few times they almost had their food knocked out of their hands, much to both their annoyances, and were glad to make it back out of the market.  Dean asked where they were going to eat and Castiel replied he thought it would be nice to sit in the park and enjoy the sun.  Dean gave him a skeptical glance, eyeing his heavy trenchcoat again, but shrugged. 

They dashed across the crosswalk and walked by the street performer, working to entertain a group of younger teenagers.  Dean watched him for a moment, paying no mind to the concrete square in the side walk sticking up.  He kicked the edge of the concrete and tripped forward, stumbling into Castiel.  Castiel fumbled the food, but managed to catch it and Dean by the arm.  Dean straightened up and shook it off, mumbling that he meant to do that.  Castiel snickered and nodded.

They took a seat in the grass, not knowing where else to sit that wasn’t too close to other people.  As soon as they sat down, Castiel shrugged his trenchcoat off, revealing a suit coat.  Dean stared in disbelief.  It was almost ninety degrees today, how in the hell was Castiel wearing layers?  Thankfully, Castiel removed the jacket as well, proving he was human and capable of being too hot.  He told Castiel as much, to which Castiel said he didn’t own much else.  It was either this or the well-worn clothes he wore when gardening or just lounging around the house. 

There was a moment of silence as they ate, then Dean asked how his week at the office had been.  Castiel clenched his jaw with a tight smile and Dean just knew he had some good stories.  He set his sandwich in his lap and took a breath before telling Dean of a woman who not only smelled of cigarettes, but that she reeked of them so badly that the new patient paperwork she filled out smelled of menthol.  Yes, she smoked enough that he could tell, _from the packet she had for ten minutes_ , what kind she smoked.  And the lobby had then smelled of menthol smoke.  Adding to that, she had broken a tooth off at the gumline and wanted it fixed.  Castiel had explained options for replacing it, but she denied all of them because of finances, which was fair enough.  But then she’d asked him to do a filling.  On a root tip.  He didn’t understand and asked her to explain what she meant; it sounded like she wanted him to rebuild the entire tooth with composite.  Then it sounded like she wanted him to drill away the rotted part of the root and just cover that.

Dean narrowed his eyes, trying to understand; he didn’t think that could be done.  Castiel told him it couldn’t.  He’d gone around and around with the woman trying to understand what she wanted and trying to make her understand what could actually be done.  They ended up getting nowhere, but at the least woman wasn’t leaving upset.

Another patient had come in for a cleaning and Castiel had noticed a temporary crown was missing.  The patient had lost it weeks prior; he’d never called to tell him he’d lost it, but for some reason he thought his appointment that day was to replace it.  His _favorite_ couple had come in again because the wife just wasn’t happy with her husband’s flipper—

Dean stopped him there to ask what a flipper was.  Essentially, it’s just a removable partial denture that only replaces one or two teeth; in this case, one tooth.  It’s the most economic option for replacing missing teeth.  But he’d had the flipper remade three times already in an effort to please them.  Free of charge even.  The wife still wasn’t happy and he couldn’t tell how the husband felt about it. 

“Dude, you need to tell them to just fuck off.”

“If they come in again, I will.  Though in not so many words,” Castiel laughed, “What about your week?”

Dean hummed in thought and told him about a car last week with horrid calipers and rotors, ones that were probably the original on the car.  If that was the case, then he supposed they weren’t too awful.  The car was quite old.  Castiel asked if it was a difficult repair, he didn’t know much about the effort to fix things in cars.  Dean didn’t know, he didn’t have anything to do with the repair. He didn’t even see the parts until after they’d been removed and keys given back to the owner.  Castiel tilted his head, then narrowed his eyes and smacked Dean’s arm upon realizing he was talking about his own car.

Besides that, Dean had his own case of stupid, as he named it.  A newer Optima had been brought in with a blown engine.  He and Bobby had been puzzled how its engine had been so thoroughly ruined, they couldn’t think of any recalls in the past year that applied to it.  As it turned out, the woman who owned it had never taken it in for an oil change.  Ever, in the couple years that she owned it.  Dean wasn’t a fan of import cars, but it was still a beautiful, nice car and no one deserved to be treated like that.  Bobby asked the woman why she’d never taken it in for an oil change and the reason was as simple as she didn’t think it needed it.  Her choices were to either replace the entire engine, costing several thousand dollars, sell the car back to the dealer or take it home as a pretty driveway decoration.

Apart from that, nothing particularly interesting ever happened at the shop.  All they were working on now was a Cobalt that had been involved in a three car accident and was walking the fine line of being totaled. 

Castiel picked up a pluot, something Dean had never heard of, and bit into it.  The hybrid fruit was juicier than Castiel anticipated and dripped a good amount of golden-pick liquid down Castiel’s shirt.  Castiel muttered a swear under his breath as he held the fruit away from himself and tried to catch the juice dripping from his chin.  Dean would deny the first thought that popped in his head; he quickly pushed the thought from his head.

“See what you get for eating weird stuff?” Dean laughed.

“It’s not weird,” Castiel defended, “I just haven’t had one in a while and forgot how much of a mess they can be.”

“That just sounds like an excuse.”

“I’d like to see you do better.”

Castiel held the fruit out to Dean with a daring look on his feet.  Dean narrowed his eyes at it, flicked his gaze up at Castiel and grabbed the fruit from Castiel’s hand.  He turned it over in his hand and decided biting into it faster would be the way to go.  He sank his teeth into it, only a few drops managed to darken Dean’s shirt, nowhere near what had been done to Castiel’s white button up.  He was surprised to find the hybrid was actually good.  He flashed Castiel a smug look as he chewed the sweet fruit.  Castiel scowled at him and snatched it back.

“It’s only because it all came out already,” Castiel muttered.

Castiel took another bite and his shirt was stained worse.  Dean snorted and almost choked as he swallowed.  Castiel frowned and gave up.  There was no use in trying to be careful now.  He finished it off and tossed the remains in the bag.  He licked the sweet juice off his fingers, mentally cursing himself for not grabbing any napkins.

Dean swallowed and looked away.  He stared at the bay long enough to recollect his thoughts.  He glanced from the corner of his eye to see Castiel had started in on the cherries.  Dean took a few from the bag and popped a whole one in his mouth.  He spit the pit back in the back, keeping the stem pinned against his teeth as he swallowed the cherry, then worked to see if he could still tie the stem in a knot with his tongue.  He used to do it all the time as a child.

Dean spit the stem into his hand, feeling a send of pride on seeing a knot.  Castiel stopped midchew and stared at the knotted stem.

“How did you do that?” Castiel asked.

“I dunno, I always could,” Dean shrugged.

He tossed it into the bag. 

“Can you— Can you teach me?” Castiel ventured, “I could never get it right.”

“I don’t know how I could, uh…”

Dean trailed off, pretending to tie another and trying to think of how to describe it.  He had no words to describe what to do and tried demonstrating it him.  Castiel tried not to laugh, he did want to know, but it was just too funny watching Dean make weird faces at him.

“Hey, you asked.”

“I did.  And I’m glad I did,” Castiel breathed.

Castiel rubbed the side of his face and the smile faded from his face.

“I think I’m getting a sun burn.”

Dean leaned forward to get a better look at his face.

“You are kinda pink,” Dean noted.

Castiel groaned.  He’d wanted to stay out longer with Dean, but not if the sun was going to insist on burning him.  Thankfully it was Dean who suggested they go somewhere else, he even suggested going back inside the market for ice cream. 

“It might make you feel a little better.”

Castiel gathered up his two coats and they went back into Pike Place.  Again, they found each other’s hands and held them.  Even as the crowd had begun to thin out with the setting sun.  They dropped down to one the market’s lower levels, smelling of musty old books and antique shops; though those stores only made up about half of the stores on the lower levels.  There was a little ice cream shop with seating inside and Dean paid for the ice cream; to make it even between them again.  They took a seat beside the window, overlooking Elliott Bay, and Dean moved his chair to sit in the way of the sun reaching Castiel. 

Castiel quirked a small smile as he ate his ice cream.  In his own opinion, the view was better now.  At one point when Castiel glanced up, he noticed Dean was little sunburned himself.  The tips of his ears, his nose and cheeks were highlighted with a light pink, making his freckles stand out.  His arms had gotten a bit of sun as well.

By the time they finished their ice cream, both of them were feeling the sunburns setting in.  They decided to call it a day then, before the burns really set in.  They walked back to the garage, hand in hand again.  The door beside the park was locked now, forcing them to walk down to the other side to the main entrance.  It was a relief to be in the building’s shadow, a curse to step out from the shadow, and another relief to set foot in the garage.  They came upon Dean’s car first and Dean pulled his hand back to turn Castiel in front of him.

“That’s gonna hurt tomorrow,” Dean noted.

“That’s not what I was expecting,” Castiel teased.

“What were you expecting then?”

“Maybe this.”

Castiel quickly pressed his lips to Dean’s own before he had a chance to ask.  He took a nervous half step back, squeezing Dean’s fingers anxiously. 

“…I like this,” Dean said.

He tugged on Castiel’s hand again, bringing him closer and taking a kiss back from him.

“I’ll see you later?” Dean asked.

“Of course.”

Dean squeezed his hand and reluctantly let him go.  He waited until Castiel reached his own car, and flashed a look back at him, before getting in his own car and grinning like an idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahaha it only took me forever to post this, but all their stories are true stories  
> sequel request: Can I get more Sweet Tooth, please? :D Like, a 2nd date??  
> additional request: I haven't gotten to the new chapters yet, so if you already wrote the date, I apologize, but I like to do things outdoors, like festivals, car shows, etc. when I describe dates in my fics.


End file.
